


Bells Will Ring

by Nutkin



Category: Disney RPF, JONAS RPF, Jonas Brothers
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Brotherly Love, Champagne, Church Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Smut, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutkin/pseuds/Nutkin
Summary: At Kevin's wedding reception, Nick and Joe take a break from their joint best man duties... to share a bottle of champagne and slip away for a quickie.





	Bells Will Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I have a real weakness for weddings and everything they entail, so writing some hot best man-on-best man action was pretty much inevitable, since Kevin had Nick and Joe share the title. Much thanks to novabery and Edwardina for reading this through for me!

The wedding is small by Jonas standards, which means that it's kind of huge.

"Just friends and family," was the official line, but the Jonas clan is pretty big and a guy as nice as Kevin makes a lot of friends. It could be worse – it could easily be three times its size – but the crowds are thick and the church is practically overflowing.

For once, though, the focus isn't on the three of them. It's just on Kevin and Danielle, and Nick and Joe deflect any attention that comes their way.

"We're just so happy for them," Nick says over and over. "This is their day."

Joe spends most of the reception with his shades on and an arm slung around Nick's shoulders.

"Champagne is awesome," he says when their grandparents wander away. "Why don't we drink champagne all the time?"

"Because then we'd be alcoholics," Nick says patiently. He folds his arms over his chest but he doesn't shrug off Joe's arm. It's the most they've been able to touch in days, and he's seemed content to linger in this pose all afternoon. The two spare Jonas Brothers, hiding out in the corner. Nick smiles at something happening across the lawn and Joe watches the late afternoon sun play on the side of his face. "Anyway, you were only supposed to have one glass. That was the rule."

"Rules are made to be broken," Joe says, waggling his eyebrows. A little smirk tilts up the edge of Nick's mouth.

"Just how drunk are you, Joe?"

"I'm not drunk," Joe says defensively. "I only had, like, two glasses."

"Uh-huh. I counted three."

Nick leans against him, warm and heavy, and they watch the couples sway around to some song he doesn't recognize. Kevin and Danielle are holding court across the tent, still shaking hands and hugging people. Joe's pretty impressed they got out of the receiving line before their first anniversary, but they both look happier than he's ever seen them.

"We're getting old, you know," he says eventually, fingers drifting over to mess with the curls that brush against Nick's collar.

"Speak for yourself. I'm in the blossom of my youth." He waves at someone, smiling and lifting his head in a nod.

"Please. In three months you won't be jailbait anymore. Have you been on the internet? People are keeping track of this stuff."

Nick makes the face he always does when someone brings up their crazy fans.

"Yeah, well, I've got another few years before I'm old enough to drink the bubbly." He looks over at Joe then, and Joe smiles, blinded by the sudden intensity of Nick's undivided attention. "Which you still aren't, if you forgot. You better steer clear of Mom or she'll flip."

"This is starting to sound like jealousy, Nicholas." Joe pulls him in tighter, fitting Nick against his side. He pitches his voice low, determined to keep his attention now that he's snagged it. "You wanna swipe a bottle with me? Get crunk?"

"No," Nick mutters, bristling in the way that means he's actually saying yes, but please make a show of convincing me so I can pretend to be morally superior. Joe's hip to that vibe; Nick did the same thing when he challenged him to a who-can-catch-the-most-Jordan-almonds-in-his-mouth competition.

"Oh, okay. I guess I'll just have to do it alone. Drink the whole thing myself. Think I can keep my cool after that? Ooh, we should have a bet." He pokes Nick in the stomach excitedly. "If I don't serenade the happy couple with an awesome karaoke cover of a Poison song, you get the keys to the motorcycle for a month."

Nick looks down at his wingtips and smiles. "You wouldn't."

"Or would I?" Nick glances over at him, skeptical and amused. "Admit it, you can't tell. Come on, Nick. Somewhere under that grumpy old man exterior there's a normal seventeen-year-old who wants to get his drink on."

"Fine," he says, unfolding his arms. "But no one is getting crunk."

Joe nabs two champagne flutes from a passing caterer and hands both to Nick. He perks his eyebrows expectantly when Nick just stares at them.

"Chug, chug, chug," he says, pumping his fist. Nick sighs and shakes his head, trying to fight down a smile.

"This is so dumb," he huffs, glancing around furtively before turning his back to the crowd. Joe rests an elbow on Nick's shoulder, making a casual human shield. Most of their friends are out there dancing; no one is really paying attention to them over here.

"Bottoms up," he says over his shoulder. By the time Nick knocks back the second glass Joe can feel some of the tension go out of him.

"Happy?" Nick asks, setting the glasses on the edge of a table.

"Not as happy as I'll be in, like, twenty minutes." He claps his hands. "Let's do this thing."

"Whoa, wait, you really want to steal a bottle? Isn't it enough that anyone with a camera could have just got a money shot?"

Joe snickers. "Money shot? Please. No one here cares about stuff like that. Come on, man. Kevin only gets married once. And we only get one chance to ring it in right."

"No," Nick says flatly. "This is a terrible idea. This is the worst of all your bad ideas, Joe, and that's saying something."

Joe pulls his sunglasses down and studies him over the white plastic edge. "It's like you think I don't know all the words to 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn'. But I do, Nick. I know that every night has its dawn, and every cowboy sings the same sad song."

"It's 'sad, sad song'," Nick corrects, almost in spite of himself. Joe grins. He only has to wait another beat before Nick throws his hands up in a loose, defeated shrug and lets Joe drag him into the fray. "I officially disclaim any responsibility for what is about to happen."

"Sure. Hey, remind me to elope," Joe calls over his shoulder as they weave through the crowd. Nick puts a hand on his back as he trails behind him.

"Remind me to never get married."

"Don't get married," Joe says immediately, dodging a caterer's tray. He veers them out on the dance floor when he spots their dad, shaking his hips in a kind of rumba to blend in.

"Elope," Nick returns, crowding in behind him as they dart between couples.

"What, right now? I thought you didn't want to get married."

Joe catches Nick's hand and swings him around, pulling him up against his chest and swaying back and forth. Nick just laughs and goes with it, letting Joe shuffle them along in a kind of half-assed foxtrot. An up-tempo jazz number is playing, and people just smile at them when Nick holds his arm up and Joe spins under it.

"Target acquired," Joe says, motioning at the bar with his head. He rocks them in a loose, lazy rhythm, waggling his eyebrows when Nick looks over his shoulder and shakes his head.

"Worst idea ever," he says over the music, but he knots his fingers around Joe's when they take off through the crowd again.

"What now?" he says when they reach the far side of the tent.

"I need a distraction." Joe tugs his sunglasses off and tucks them in his front pocket. "Go order a drink and argue when they ask for ID."

"I'm not doing that," Nick hisses incredulously. "Someone would have it on Twitter before I finished the first sentence."

"There's a confidentiality agreement," Joe says, waving his hand. "Take one for the team."

Nick folds his arms and rolls his eyes. "No."

"Man, I have to do everything around here."

Joe pulls his phone out and puts it to his ear, discreetly giving Nick the finger as he wanders over to the side of the table. "What?" he says into it. "No, definitely not. That's just absurd." He hangs around for a minute, eyeing the bartenders, but they're all pretty swamped. No one bats an eye when he digs one of the bottles out of a bucket of ice and moves away, tucking it under his coat.

"You're certifiably insane," Nick says conversationally, falling in step next to him. He looks over his shoulder and huffs out a laugh, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I hope you realize that."

"Please. You wish you had a pair like mine," Joe says, rolling up on his toes to scan the crowds for their parents and spotting them over by Kevin. "Let's take this party inside."

The church is weirdly quiet when they slip in through the side door, the change so abrupt that Joe's ears ring a little. Nick tugs him back to the rooms where they got ready for the ceremony, trying doorknobs till he finds one that's unlocked.

"Oh my God," he laughs, leaning back against the door and sliding down to the carpet. "I can't believe we just did that."

"I know, I'm awesome," Joe says dismissively, sliding down next to him. He furrows his eyebrows and turns the bottle around, studying the top. "How do you start this thing?"

"Give it to me," Nick says, holding out his hand. Joe's pretty sure that Nick has never opened a bottle of champagne in his life, but he calmly peels the foil off and loosens the wire. "This is such a bad idea," he says mildly, wriggling the cork free.

"Wrong," says Joe.

It foams a little, dripping down over Nick's fingers. Nick licks it off the back of his hand.

"You didn't get glasses, genius," he points out. Joe just takes the bottle and tosses it back, nearly spraying it all over them when it foams over again.

"We're slumming it, dude," he coughs. "Improvise."

Nick pulls a face when he takes a swig, studying the label like the name on it will mean anything to him.

"This stuff tastes disgusting."

"That's cristal, baby," Joe says. "The flossy, flossy. Wait till you try beer."

"I've tried beer," Nick says witheringly.

"Uh-huh. A strawberry flavored Smirnoff Ice isn't beer." Joe takes the bottle back and drinks some more, bubbles fizzing at the back of his throat.

"Oh, right, sorry," Nick says. "I forgot about all those keg stands you did back at State."

"Rush week rules, bro," Joe says, handing him the bottle and belching. Nick laughs and shoves him.

"Thanks for keeping it classy," he sniffs. Joe crosses his eyes at him, and Nick grins before chugging down a good few inches from the bottle. He holds up a finger afterwards and lets out an even louder one, shaping it around the word, "Classy."

Joe doubles over, sliding down into Nick's lap and smothering giggles against his thigh. Nick cracks up, too, and for a minute they're just falling all over each other in a warm, clumsy pile of limbs.

"Oh man," Joe moans, slumping against Nick's side. They settle into comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth. Nick tips his head over on Joe's shoulder and hums along with faint strains of jazz floating in through the window, tapping his ring against the bottle every now and then.

"We are getting old, huh?" he says after a while. "Kev just got married."

"Yup." Joe studies their shoes, knocking a foot against Nick's. The hems of his pants have ridden up a little, exposing slivers of his mismatched socks. "He seems really happy."

Nick smiles and nods. "I think he hugged me five times this morning."

"Me too. It's pretty awesome." He takes another swig and hands the bottle back to Nick. "And weird. Everything's gonna be different now. It's just you and me."

Nick stiffens a little, lifting his head.

"No it's not," he says immediately. "This doesn't change anything."

"Come on," Joe says, but he's in too good a mood to really bicker. "He just crossed over, man. He's a grown-up."

"Kevin will never be a grown-up," Nick says flatly, and then snickers. Joe joins in, because that much, at least, is true.

"Okay, no," he concedes. "But, I mean..." He glances over at Nick, not sure how he's missing it. "He's, like, going on his honeymoon?" Joe holds his hand up, thumbing at the smooth, polished piece of silver on his third finger. "This is just us now."

"Yeah," Nick says. He tips his hand and studies his own ring. It's got a pattern on it, a newer one he picked out a couple months ago. "I guess."

"So that's weird." Joe grabs the bottle from Nick's hand and takes a pull from it. They've managed to down about half, and judging by the way Nick's cheeks have turned pink, they're both feeling it. "But, you know, whatever. We're doing okay."

Nick smiles, slow and dirty. He's still looking at his hand, but he knocks his shoulder against Joe's.

"Yeah," he says again, glancing over at him. His teeth catch on his bottom lip, and his voice suddenly goes lower. "We're doing okay."

That was totally not what Joe had in mind when he dreamed up this little caper. They're in a freaking church, for one thing. All the people in the world who actually know and care about them are about twenty paces from the door they're leaning on.

Joe tips the bottle back at Nick, but he shakes his head, gaze fixed on Joe's mouth. He smirks a little, eyes hooded, and Joe can feel his cock swell in his pants. Nick suddenly seems really warm where they're touching, heat seeping through all these layers of clothes.

"Uh," he says, blinking a couple times. That lazy, good feeling he's been thrumming with has abruptly zeroed in on his dick.

"Mm," Nick agrees. He leans over and kisses him lightly, just a tease of lip. He lingers there, breathing against his mouth, but moves away when Joe leans into it. He smiles and tugs the bottle back. "So, Aunt Jamie's getting fat," he says casually, taking a swig.

"Oh, no way," Joe says. He moves before he can second-guess the impulse, scrambling over into Nick's lap and straddling his thighs. Everything feels weird, like his body is doing whatever it wants. It's awesome and a little scary at the same time.

Nick raises his eyebrows and tries to looks innocent, setting the bottle against the wall.

"Can I help you with something?" The threat of a smile is hanging around his mouth, but his tone is breezy. "Wow, Joe, you look a little flushed. Maybe you need some air."

"Maybe you need to—"

But whatever he's about to say is cut off by Nick's mouth, suddenly tipping up to catch him in a real kiss. His lips are wet with champagne, the taste of it all over him when his tongue teases at Joe's bottom lip. He laughs against his mouth, loose and happy. They've done this so many times that there's a familiar rhythm about it, but this is a little different. It all feels sweeter with that giddy fizz of alcohol under his skin, blurring away everything but how good it feels.

Nick slides his hands beneath Joe's jacket, under his vest, smoothing up the sides of his dress shirt. He's getting hard but his movements are slow and lazy, like he's got all the time in the world. He pauses mid-kiss to suck on Joe's upper lip, pulling a needy little noise out of him.

"You are such a dick," Joe breathes when Nick pulls back.

"You're a real sweet talker, Joe," he says, grinning and letting his head fall back against the door. His hands feel huge where they're trapped between Joe's vest and shirt, each finger pressing into his ribs. "The ladies must love you."

"I do okay," he says modestly. His hips give a little roll, grinding their cocks together. "I also have a cool car, so that helps."

He leans in to kiss lazily at the side of Nick's neck, where the crisp, clean smell of cologne is the strongest. There's a little rough spot he missed when they were shaving that morning, right at the base of his jaw, and Joe touches his tongue to it. He can sort of feel the steady thrum of Nick's pulse throbbing hard under his skin.

"You're warm," he says. Nick laughs lowly, the rumble of his chest right up against Joe's.

"So are you." He slides his hands back down Joe's sides, gripping at his waist and pulling him down harder. Sweet, sluggish heat spreads through Joe's limbs, and suddenly it doesn't seem like a huge deal that there are about a million people nearby. It feels private here, the noise outside just a dim, distant hum.

"You know." Joe grips the front of Nick's jacket and kisses between his eyebrows, feeling them move under his mouth. "I think it's, like, traditional for the best man to hook up with a bridesmaid."

"Yeah?" Nick rubs his thumbs against Joe's hips and nips at his Adam's apple.

"Yup. So this is kind of the next best thing, right?"

Nick suddenly laughs.

"You have the worst ways of trying to justify stuff." He hooks his fingers under the waist of Joe's trousers and rocks against him.

"Do not." Joe's not really paying attention anymore, because it suddenly seems way more important to keep up that hot slide of friction between them.

"Remember when you told me that we'd perform together better if we..." He mouths at the base of Joe's throat, tongue playing over the spot right above his buttoned collar. His lips rub there as he pitches his voice into an unfairly girly imitation of Joe's. "...understood each other's bodies?"

"That was totally true," Joe breathes, twisting his fingers in Nick's hair. "Makes perfect sense."

"And, um, there was the time you said that giving blowjobs would help improve stamina." He presses his forehead against Joe's shoulder as they move together. Joe thumbs at the back of Nick's neck.

"You say that like you – huh – didn't totally... have better breath control after that."

Nick's chest quakes with a laugh that he huffs into Joe's ear.

"Or you're totally full of shit." His fingers tighten around the lapels of Joe's jacket, using them as leverage for that lazy grinding before he pushes them over Joe's shoulders.

"I have the best ideas," Joe says as they both fumble to tug it off his arms. Nick's hands come up to hold his face when he kisses him again, the metal of his ring warm against Joe's jaw. He licks in deep this time, tongue rolling around Joe's mouth in a careless, easy glide.

"And the worst ways of pitching them." He grins and slides his hand down until it's right over the button of Joe's pants. "I'm not a bridesmaid, Joe."

"That's good," he says, glancing down to watch his fingers hover there. "Because yellow is so not your color."

"And this isn't the next-best thing," Nick continues, paving right over that comment. He yanks the button open and the zipper down, pulling the ends of Joe's shirt free. His hand is hot and hard when it forms around his dick and gives it a squeeze.

"You might... have a point."

Nick quirks his eyebrows smugly and tugs Joe's dick out of his pants.

"But, uh." His lips pull in another little grin, cheeks flushing pinker as Joe watches. Nick can be really pretty sometimes. It's kind of distracting. "We can still hook up."

Somewhere outside there's a loud whoop of laughter, but Nick starts moving his fist in tight, deep tugs, and Joe can't even care.

"Fuck," he sighs. His hand moves clumsily between them, finding where Nick's hard-on is bulging against the front of his pants. Nick gasps sharply, body tensing under Joe's, and it hits him out of nowhere how fucking weird it is that he gets to do this – that Nick wants it as bad as he does.

"You're so hard," he mutters, grinding his palm there. Nick shuts his eyes and nods, arching as Joe traces the heavy, obvious shape of it through the fabric.

"I wanna suck you," Nick whispers, voice dipping low. His fist goes tight around Joe's cock and he opens his eyes again to look right at him. "Can we do that? You want me to blow you?"

"Uh, no," Joe says, hips rolling helplessly for more friction. "Leave the... brilliant ideas to me, dude."

Nick laughs and grabs Joe's hips, tipping them over on the floor. The whole room has taken on a slushy, bubbly kind of glow, making it hard for Joe to concentrate when Nick straightens up and reaches for the bottle. He throws it back like an old pro this time, his other hand loosening his tie.

Joe's not totally sure what he was expecting Nick to be like with some booze in him, but this definitely wasn't it. There's a clumsiness to his movements that isn't usually there, but he seems even more sure of himself. Even cockier.

It's pretty hot.

"God," Joe breathes, rubbing at his own face when Nick leans in over his dick. He licks a stripe right up the side of it, not even pausing before he sucks at the head. His mouth is wet and slick and a little cool from the champagne. It takes Joe a second to screw up the courage to look down and take it all in – the sharp arch of Nick's eyebrows, his smooth forehead, the fat flush of his lips that just drag as his dick disappears into Nick's mouth.

"Fuck," he pants, muscles all tensing up when Nick's tongue curls just right around the head.

Nick glances up at him and slides down nice and deep, the head skidding over the slick roof of his mouth. Joe turns his face against the carpet and rubs it there, lost in a moment of pure hedonism. He's already on the edge, so close that it's starting to spiral up through his limbs. There's no way he's going to last.

"You're totally – gonna – swallow, huh?" he manages, somehow knowing it's true.

Nick groans, fist twisting around the base. It sounds a little like mm-hmm, but Joe can't really focus on anything but the way it feels humming around his dick. He digs his fingers in Nick's hair, creeping them down to rub the warm skin just behind his ear. If he really concentrates, he can feel Nick's jaw move under his thumb.

"So good," he breathes. Nick squeezes at his thigh, nails scraping against the smooth fabric of his pants. The tension in his body is lazy and sweet, building up in a steady little rush that finally sends him to his elbows, huffing, "Oh man, I'm gonna come—"

Nick doesn't miss a beat. He pulls back until he's just got a couple inches in his mouth, his fist sliding in a spitty, wet squeeze. He looks up at him then, eyes big and dark, and Joe's whole body shudders as he loses it right in Nick's mouth.

He clunks back to the floor without really noticing, only vaguely aware of Nick's hand slowing as he backs off. When he opens his eyes Nick's just lingering there, eyebrows hitching as his throat works and he swallows – hard, deliberate, the way he'd down an aspirin.

"Hngh," Joe says pathetically, chest heaving against the buttons of his vest.

Nick sits back on his haunches and Joe tries to focus, tries to press the sight into his memory, because – Christ, Nick's in a three-piece suit and his hair's all messed up and his mouth looks exactly like what you'd think it would after a blowjob. There's a little smudge of come on his lips, and Joe taps his own, uselessly. Nick licks it off and breathes out a heavy sigh, gripping his dick through his pants.

Normally Joe would be on him in a heartbeat, but all he can do right then is watch Nick dig his cock out of his pants and jerk himself. He falls into the same nasty, hard rhythm he was giving Joe, the veins on the back of his hand all fat and heavy-looking as he fucks into his fist. His cheeks have gone ruddy, matching the pink flush of his cock where it's moving through his fingers. The light catches on his cufflinks and ring and the golden hairs below his knuckles every time he finishes a stroke.

"You look so hot," Joe blurts out. It isn't the kind of thing they ever say to each other, but it's so true Joe can't hold it back – not with his brain all hazy from alcohol and coming that hard. Nick's breathing hitches suddenly, his eyes snapping open to fix Joe with a stare.

"Yeah?" he demands. He bites his bottom lip when Joe nods dumbly.

"Yeah." He sits up to get a better view, gaze raking over Nick unapologetically. His breaths are still harsh and loud, cutting out around his words. "You look awesome. Like... hot. You just look really hot, Nick."

It's one of the least articulate things he's ever said, but Nick makes a harsh, desperate little noise and comes all over his fist.

"Fuck," he groans, wringing himself out. It spatters down his fingers like the champagne foam earlier. "Oh my God, Joe."

He sways there for a second on his knees and then eases down to the floor with a thump. Joe flops next to him, resting his head on Nick's stomach.

"Wow," Nick says after a minute. Joe smiles, the fabric of Nick's jacket rough on his hot cheek.

"Like I said. Champagne is awesome."

Nick laughs and stretches his arms out. "Good call." He pauses, eyebrows furrowing. "Did we just get drunk?"

"Um." Joe rolls his head so he can gaze up at the ceiling. He taps a finger against his chin thoughtfully, and then just kind of rubs at it. "I guess? I've never been drunk before. Do you feel drunk?"

"I don't know!" Nick says. "How do you know if you're drunk?"

"Say the alphabet backwards," Joe suggests. He extends his arms above him and tries to touch his nose. One finger hits his cheek and the other almost pokes him in the eye. "Uh."

"We totally just got drunk," Nick says disbelievingly. He looks shocked for about all of ten seconds, and then bursts into loud, helpless laughter. Joe starts laughing too, turning his face against Nick's stomach.

"Okay," Nick says after a minute, steeling himself. He mashes his lips together in a thin line. "Okay, get it together."

"You get it together."

Nick does his best to keep a straight face and reaches down to poke at Joe's cheek. Joe pops it out with air and Nick grins.

"We should get back out there," he says. "Someone's gonna notice we're gone."

"You just don't want to miss doing the YMCA." Joe eases to his feet carefully, not totally sure what to expect, but it's not too bad. He holds his arms out and tries to walk in a straight line.

"Oh man, they aren't really going to play that." Nick scrubs at his face and wanders over to the oval mirror in the corner.

"Dude," Joe says over his shoulder. He makes it all the way to the wall before doing an about-face. He can totally be sober. "This is Kevin we're talking about."

Nick nods at his reflection. "Point taken."

Joe tucks his shirt back in his pants and buttons his fly, only wobbling a little when he leans over to grab his jacket from the floor.

The outside world seems a lot closer now that he's gotten off. The windows face away from the party, but when he wanders over to them he can hear the tinkling sound of conversation and silverware scraping against plates. A voice that might be Demi's screeches with laughter, and Joe squints out at the sunset and smiles.

Nick straightens his tie and smoothes down the front of his jacket, grinning when Joe comes up behind him and rests his chin on his shoulder. Their reflections both look a little pink-cheeked, but not too bad. It could pass for the flush of spending too long on the dance floor.

"Do we pass inspection?"

"Uh, I do. You..." Nick turns around and studies Joe critically, a smirk quirking up his lips. "I guess you're okay."

"Just okay? Hello, I'm the best man."

Nick smiles and adjusts Joe's tie. "Actually, I'm the best man. You're the back-up."

"Tch, you must suck pretty bad if they had to hire a back-up." Joe knocks their foreheads together and straightens the sweet little bouquet of flowers pinned over Nick's heart. He's still warm to the touch.

"You good?" Joe asks.

"I'm good," Nick says. His shoulders shake with a held-in laugh. "Really good."

Joe tosses his jacket over his shoulder and his arm around Nick, steering them to the door. "Awesome, because we gotta nail this Poison cover."

They stumble through the doorway when Nick digs his elbow into Joe's ribs, but Nick pauses at the end of the hallway and tugs him in, planting a warm, lazy kiss against Joe's mouth.

"I'll bring my A game."

Joe grins and tugs him back out to the party.


End file.
